Hereditary Insanity
by talltophat
Summary: Long before the family feud the brothers relationship with the Earl was strange. With Neah as his protege and Mana as the family outsider it was unlikely that things would ever be balanced. But when did everything crumble, and why? Allen discovers that his part in this brotherly battle for power and revenge is far more extensive than anyone could have imagined, or dared to hope.


**I am so done with waiting for dgrayman to get new chapters**

Chapter 1.

He stared, eyes wide with fear, as his brother climbed the old apple tree. Bark crumbled off the dry trunk as Neah's boots dug fiercely into the wood, frantically trying to find grip and failing miserably to do so. The flakes fell about the waiting Mana, lightly dusting his shoulders in the pale residue.

This wasn't a good idea. They were going to get in trouble.

"Get down, Neah!" he yelled, his fear of being caught overshadowing that of his love for apples.

Neah ignored the pleas of his overcautious elder brother and continued to climb; his eyes alight with foolish determination.

"Got them!" chanted the younger brother, suddenly dropping two ripe, ruby red apples from the branch to which he clung. They fell to the soft earth with a gentle thud and Mana picked them up excitedly, giving them a quick polish; all fears forgotten now that the treasure was theirs.

Neah skidded down elegantly, realising, with extreme satisfaction that getting down was significantly easier than getting up had been.

Mana chucked him an apple, which he caught gracefully, and the two sat down simultaneously against the aged bark. They ate in silence, savouring the unique sweetness and basking in the boyish need for adventure, which they had for today, satisfied.

When the apples were half eaten and their initial allure had worn off, the pair looked at each other and burst into a sudden fit of laugher; both giggling at their own untamed naughtiness.

"You're such a chicken, Mana." joked Neah, referring to his brother's earlier warnings.

"Am not." chanted Mana, lightly yet on the defensive.

"Are too." teased Neah.

"Shut up, Neah."

They finished the fruit soon after, carelessly dropping the gnawed cores amongst the trees knobbly roots and rubbing their sticky hands against their trousers, attempting to rid themselves of any evidence that would expose today's illicit activities.

"I feel a bit weird." stated Neah, quite suddenly, turning in the direction of home.

"Maybe you ate that apple too quickly, Mother always tells you to slow down." laughed Mana, shaking his head at his brother's unruly appetite.

They began the short journey home; 8 year old Mana led, 6 year old Neah followed.

"Hop on up." The elder offered, kneeling down with his back to his brother.

"Thanks Mana." Said Neah quietly, clambering up and resting his pounding forehead against his brother's warm shoulders.

* * *

10 years later

* * *

"Neah!" called Mother, from outside his door. "Neah!" she repeated, "We have a visitor!"

Neah's head snapped up, he'd fallen asleep in his armchair again, with a book on his lap and a pen in his hand.

"Who is it mother?" he asked, stifling a yawn.

"Uncle Cyrus has returned! He wishes to speak to you!"

_Cyrus? Surely not?_

"Alright, mother!" he called back, keeping his voice even, unfazed. "I'll be right down!"

He straightened himself up, rubbed the sleep from his eyes and pulled a hand lazily through his unkempt hair.

_So, he'd finally come back._

* * *

"You're almost there, Mana!" called Neah from below.

He'd fetched the apples one too many times and today it was Mana's turn. He hadn't taken the news well, but if there was one thing Mana loved it was apples and when his brother had refused, point blank, to retrieve them for him, he'd had to make a decision.

He was regretting his choice now, as his boots slid uncontrollably on the slippery bark and his arms strained painfully under his own weight.

He wasn't proud of this thievery, but sometimes greed gets the better of you.

"Stretch!"

"I'm trying, Neah!" he yelled back, frustrated.

He reached blindly in front of himself, fingers failing to latch onto the apples they so desperately craved.

_Just a bit little more..._

_Nearly..._

He felt the smooth treasure brush against his fingertips, and forgetting himself, moved his other hand to retrieve the fruit.

"You've got it!"

And he had, but he did not get to celebrate.

The bark was too smooth for his boots alone to hold him up by and he felt himself topple unsteadily. He dropped the shiny apple and made to grasp the trunk for stability, desperate to cling to it once more.

But before his clammy hands could reach their saviour, he felt himself fall backwards, too abruptly for shock, or fear to register between either of them.

His arms and legs flailed uselessly as he lost contact with the tree.

His small body hit the ground with a thud and his head bounced of the trunk with a hollow echo.

Neah stared wide eyed at the body of his brother, sprawled out awkwardly in the emerald grass.

"Mana..?" he whispered, pathetically.

No reply.

"MANA?!"

* * *

"Hello, Neah." welcomed the expected visitor.

He sat politely in a plush armchair by the window, his legs crossed and his top hat removed. It was set carefully upon the table in front, along with a curious and very battered umbrella.

Neah saw his guest's wonderful blue eyes asses him as he stepped into the homely study.

And Neah, in turn, took in his visitor's appearance, all too familiar with the elegant man before him, despite the many years since their last encounter.

His face was warm, friendly and inviting, his eyes deep and mysterious. Within them Neah could see power, importance, and himself, grotesquely reflected in the glassy iris'.

He was young. Most would guess mid-thirties, with jet black hair combed neatly to the side and a pale complexion, _so_ similar to his own.

The family resemblance was uncanny.

The man stared at him, expectantly.

"Hello, Uncle Cyrus." Neah said with a smile, which was not, entirely forced.

The man's face cracked into a large grin.

"So you _do_ remember!" Cyrus sang, tossing aside his polite composure and hugging his nephew, his face alight with merriment.

"I thought you boys would forget about me!"

Neah returned the hug somewhat enthusiastically, laughing along with Cyrus, genuinely happy to be reunited with the dear Uncle he had not seen for years.

"We have so much to discuss!" The Earl exclaimed, his eyes wild with excitement.

* * *

"When did you awaken, fully, Neah?" Cyrus asked curiously, stirring the cup of tea that Neah's mother had so politely offered him.

'_What a curious concoction._' mused the Earl.

"A few years ago, three, I think." Neah answered nonchalantly.

"_Three whole years_?!" The Earls eyes almost popped out of his skull. "I'm terribly sorry I missed out on so much!"

Neah laughed.

He hadn't missed out on much; he hadn't missed out on _anything_. They had gone about their lives like normal people, like normal humans.

"It was different here, without you. It was more... _normal_."

He hadn't meant to sound so appreciative in his description of these past few years. He hadn't _meant_ to offend Cyrus, but he did so regardless.

"You seem... _happy_." observed the Earl in a cold voice, setting his cup down.

A simple nod was all Neah gave in response.

"Well-"began he, attempting to change the topic of conversation.

But their pleasant chat was suddenly interrupted by the thunderous thump of clumsy footfalls accompanied by yelling, which sounded from the kitchen.

"Neah?"

"Neaaah?!"

"Master Mana please keep it down!" they heard Bennet hush, but the yeller ignored his pleas.

"NEEEAAAAH!?"

Cried Mana for the final time, throwing the study door wide open.

He ran into the room, looking pleased to have finally located his brother. He had a few twigs in his hair and a considerable amount of dirt smeared across his checks and brow.

"Neah! You will never guess what-"

He began excitedly, eager to retell the story of his near death experience with Farmer Duncan to his partner in crime, before noticing that they had company.

He turned awkwardly to look at the classy stranger who was staring up at him in utter bewilderment.

"Oh, sorry!" apologised Mana, uncomfortably eying the stranger and blushing at his own rudeness.

He was a fancy looking man, a good bit older than the pair of them with a handsome appearance and strange, sea blue, slightly _manic_ eyes.

"Mana?" asked the man, in a somewhat familiar tone.

Mana stared at the man, the one who knew his name and recognition at pricked his mind.

"Uncle Cyrus?" he questioned, unsure if this was in fact his batty uncle. This man looked _younger_ than the Cyrus from his childhood.

"The very same!" smiled Cyrus. "You've certainly grown, Mana!" he exclaimed, standing up and backing away to get a full view of the teen.

He looked so very much like Neah, the pair were _almost_ identical. He had the same dark brown waves of hair, (though his was longer and tied back in a ponytail), the same smile, even the same stance. But the eyes, the eyes were different. The elder's eyes were youthful, innocent and childlike, nothing like Neah's. Not alike at all.

But how they'd both changed! It had been 4 years and 203 days since Cyrus Campbell had last visited his home.

It had been 4 years and 203 days since he'd last been in his human form.

It had been 4 years and 203 days since he'd last seen his widowed sister-in-law and his two, wonderful nephews.

"It's very nice to see you again, Mana." said Cyrus pleasantly. "You really must bring me up to date with everything."

* * *

"I'll see you soon, Boys." smiled Cyrus, placing his top hat back upon his head and swinging his umbrella around childishly. "The ark is still yours, Neah; it will still answer to you."

Neah nodded, playing the old score in his head, remembering his song.

_Maybe it was time for a new verse._

"I look forward to the reunion." replied Neah, returning Cyrus' smile.

"Are you _sure_ you won't come with me now? I know it would mean a lot to the others."

"I'm afraid not Cyrus, there are things I must attend to first. But I'll contact you soon."

"Soon." said the Earl, as though repeating the word would make it a certainty.

He then dipped his head, flashed Neah and Mana a quick grin and made his way down the garden path.

They both watched his retreating figure until he entered through an ark door, a huge plate of light, and swiftly disappeared into another dimension.

* * *

"How nice to have Uncle Cyrus back." began mother at dinner. "He was in a very pleasant mood."

She'd been surprised at the sudden visit and was rather displeased with the visitor. Cyrus seemed far happier than he had been before his unexpected departure four years ago; he'd even complimented her roses, but herself and Cyrus... they would never see eye to eye.

"He's still batty." Joked Mana.

"Oh, Mana." scolded Mother, smiling lightly.

"He's been having some trouble with the exorcists." explained Neah, repeating to them what Adam had told him in their earlier chat. "It would seem that father told the Order quite a lot about him before he died."

There was an awkward silence, as so often followed the mention of father.

"I don't think it's the right time to bring this up, Neah." said mother, seriously.

"It's never the right time." replied Neah coolly, taking a drink.

She attempted to restrain herself from replying.

"He was a good man." stated she, unable to bite her tongue, her tired eyes boring into those of her sons. "He had no way of knowing-"

"Would it have made a difference?"

Mother swallowed loudly before answering.

"Of course it would have."

"He sold out his own brother! To the Order no less!" cried Neah, putting down his fork, he'd suddenly lost his appetite.

"He did what he believed to be right." hissed mother.

"How could he justify himself?"

"In case you have forgotten, Neah, your dear Uncle is not known for his positive contributions." She said matter-of-factly.

"Neither I am." He replied coolly.

"You were his son, he felt differently-"

"Bullshit." He hissed, rising swiftly from his place and striding out of the room, leaving his dinner untouched and his glass half full.

Mother watched his retreating figure sadly until he was out of sight.

"It's a complicated situation." said Mana, speaking up for the first time and looking at his mother with a furrowed brow. "Neah will work things out, he won't be like Cyrus. Don't worry, Mother."

His words sounded hollow, even to himself.

* * *

"What is the wind saying?" asked Mother, staring up at a much younger Neah, a slight smile playing at the corners of her mouth.

He sat on a thick branch of the knobbly tree, the one in the meadow, the one that never bloomed.

"What are you talking about?" he questioned, rather defensively.

"It looked like you were talking to it." She said simply, still with the light smile.

He looked away for a moment, embarrassed, and then back to her, quickly changing the subject.

"Where's Cyrus? Wasn't he with you?"

The reason Neah had come out here in the first place was to rid himself of the company of Uncle Cyrus. He'd felt bad leaving mother alone to struggle through his endless drivel, but it seemed that she too had escaped.

Mother nodded forwards, towards a large turret of smoke which wafted upwards from the opposite end of the meadow.

"Uncle is where that strangely coloured smoke is coming from?" he asked, already knowing the answer.

_What could he possibly be burning?_

"Hey Mother, it is true that that _weirdo_ is now head of the Campbell family?"

She chuckled at her son's colourful use of language.

"Weirdness runs in the family," she chuckled. "Look at you! You were talking to the wind!"

Neah chose to ignore this comment and instead focused his gaze, once again, upon the still rising tower of bizarre smoke.

The meadow rustled in the light wind, sending leaves and petals floating through the air.

"What a nice breeze..." sighed mother.

Neah looked at her, out of the corner of his eye, and for the first time noticed how thin and worn down she was. Two large, dark circles framed each one of her eyes, sapping her face of its dwindling youth.

"Mother..?" he began quietly, preparing to ask the question which had been burning on his tongue ever since she'd joined him.

"Yes?"

"Mother... Will Mana not grow up?" His voice faltered slightly on the last word, but he continued, determined to voice his fears, rushing quickly through his worries. "Bennet and the others said so. They said that Mana will never wake up. After all, a month has passed since the fall...Mana is-"

"Neah."

He looked up, surprised by his mother's odd interruption.

And he almost fell off of the branch on which he sat.

Mana was underneath mother's skirts, healthy and smiling. Mana, alive and well, was staring up at him, a huge smile on his much missed face.

Neah knew that he should be annoyed by this tasteless joke, but the flood of happiness and relief that hit him at Mana's emergence didn't allow him to.

He felt his eyes well up with tears as he leapt joyfully from the tree to hug his brother.

He'd never been so happy.

* * *

Neah sat at his piano playing a song he had very recently composed. It was still unfinished and required work here and there, but the body of it was complete and it flowed from his fingertips effortlessly.

He rocked in time with the absorbing melody as the room flooded with its sweet tune.

It was a song of hope, of endurance.

"Neah!" called the delicate voice of Mother from downstairs. He only just heard her over the music.

He hesitated to stop, and wondered if it would be obvious that he had ignored her if he continued to play. But he thought better of it; he was above being so childishly rude.

He let his fingers slow to a finish and the melody come to a graceful close.

"Yes, Mother?"

"Road is here and she'd like to speak to you!" she said, projecting her voice. "She's in the garden with Mana."

_With Mana? How odd._

Neah didn't reply, partly because he was still annoyed about her ridiculous loyalty to their father and partly because he was confused by what had spurred Roads unexpected visit.

He listened until his mother footsteps had died away and she'd departed to the kitchen before venturing downstairs.

* * *

"No, no, no, that's all wrong Road!" chuckled Mana, shaking his head at the young girls inflexibility.

"I can't do it, Mana." She moaned, huffing like the child she outwardly was.

Mana had been trying to teach her to do a simple handstand for the last half hour and progress was going slow. For such a small, nimble, sprite of a girl he'd expected her gymnastic talents to greatly outshine his. How mistaken he'd been.

He laughed at her dishevelled appearance, hoping that her feelings would not be hurt.

Her spikes of plum hair had been flattened at the top where her head had come into contact with the ground, and countless twigs and leaves stuck up awkwardly, knotted within the purple mess.

"We'll try it one more time," he said, trying to sound enthusiastic. "You know what they say, '75th time's a charm'."

She rolled her eyes lazily, "Good one Campbell, just hurry up and show me how it's done!"

He grinned at her frustration, rarely did he beat Road, or Neah for that matter, at anything.

He flipped up gracefully into a poised handstand and eyed her expectantly.

"Your turn." He said, still holding the position.

He saw her, upside down, attempt for the 76th time to flip up and hold her position. And, for the 76th time, she failed miserably.

When she reached full height her legs fell down the way they had come, pulling the rest of her petite body with them and leaving her sprawled out awkwardly upon the soft grass of the meadow.

Just to rub in her failure Mana lifted one arm and put it behind his back, showing off his unrivalled one handed handstand.

"Show off." mocked Road, dusting herself off and coming to stand beside him.

When she was a foot away from his upturned figure she decided it was time to end his fun and lightly pushed his leg, causing him to fall over and collapse in a rather inelegant heap upon the grass.

He hauled himself up, "Sore loser." He hissed jokingly.

"Looking good, Mana." called Neah, strolling out the front door and coming to stand beside the two in the green meadow.

He laughed at the shape that his brother had managed to get himself into.

"Mother said you wanted to talk to me." He said, addressing the young, giggling girl.

"Yes," she said, becoming serious. "It's important."

She then turned her back attention to Mana.

"Goodbye, Mana." she said childishly, with a girly wave.

"Bye, Road!" he replied, cheerily, taking this as his cue. "Practice your handstands!"

And with that he turned on his heel and headed back towards the house.

When those two talked 'Noah' business Mana was not a welcome listener, nor did he want to be. Their plans generally involved a lot of killing and torture. Although Neah would tell him _'they're bad_' or '_I don't approve either'_ or '_I wasn't involved'_, these justifications failed to comfort him.

They, not so much Neah, but the other Noah spoke of 'humans' with obvious disgust, forgetting that Mana himself was one of those 'vile creatures'.

Mana shook his head, he hated being torn. Torn between the unbreakable love he had for his brother and the inherited hatred he had for what he was.

The love won, every time, and though he felt dreadful admitting it, he knew that if Neah asked him to do anything, to help in a sickening plan or terrible scheme, he would agree to it in a heartbeat.

But the hatred was always there, like an uncomfortable inch that was impossible to scratch.

* * *

"He's a good boy, your Mana." said Road, staring up at him through her dark lashes.

They were walking through the impressive garden, side by side.

"I know." Said Neah bluntly, staring up at the cloudless blue sky above.

She decided to shed the topic of Mana due to Neah's cold dismissal and to get straight to business. "I heard a whisper, Neah, a whisper of something big."

"Big?"

"Innocence related."

This perked his interest, if only slightly. However, he stopped gazing wonderingly at the sky and met her indigo eyes.

"It would appear that the Order have a new type of Innocence, a more powerful Innocence."

"The Heart?" he questioned, bored by the topic that was 'the heart'. It seemed to be all anyone cared about lately.

"Something bigger." She smiled; it was a sadistic, cruel smile that she saved for times such as these and that she kept hidden from the innocent eyes of precious Mana.

"The two finders I tortured seemed to know little about it, but they did know this: That it is an independent Innocence. It does not need a host."

Neah raised his eyebrows.

He had never fought with the exorcists or harvested any Innocence himself, the Earl kept him protected, claiming that fighting would not be his forte and that it was not in his nature. But that hadn't stopped him from listening to the others stories.

Cyrus had taught him all there was to know about the Noah and the Order and about their various clashes over the many centuries.

He knew the story of Noah and of God.

Innocence was Gods weapon to his people, his only gift to them. But if Innocence was not a weapon, if it in itself was a being, what did that make it?

How deadly would Innocence be without a human wielder to weaken it?

He instinctively shuddered at the thought.

He hated fucking Innocence.

He hated the fucking Black Order.

"Where are they keeping it?" he asked, curious as to why Road had not followed up on the information.

"One of their many headquarters no doubt, but I see no need for us to rush." She smiled. "It's Innocence after all, it will find _us_."

He nodded, not at all comfortable with the idea of Innocence hunting _them_ down.

He sighed.

The mood had changed drastically after Mana had departed.

Thatreminded him of something.

"By the way, Road." He said with a grin, shedding his previous, serious air. "I know very well that you can do handstands, why lie to Mana?"

Road, for once, looked taken aback.

She quickly recollected herself and grinned back cheekily, before saying "We all have our secrets, Neah."

* * *

"What do you think?" asked Neah. He'd just finished retelling the story to Mana, who, much to his surprise didn't seem at all phased by it.

"I think..." he said, looking thoughtfully out through the window. "That you worry too much."

Neah laughed

"Do you know what I was worrying about when _I_ was 16?" asked Mana, his eyebrows raised.

"Whether or not there was enough food in the fridge..?" asked Neah, feigning cluelessness.

"Good one."

There was a moment's silence in which Mana stared broodingly out the window again, seemingly absorbed by the image of the rain splattering off of the stone cobbles, his mouth turned down at the corners.

Then, very suddenly, he turned back to Neah, who was already immersed in his novel.

"I think we should run away."

Neah looked up slowly from the pages of his book and searched Mana's face for an indication that he was joking.

"You're not serious..?" he asked, deeply confused.

"I am." said he, returning his attention to the rain.

"I saw a circus, a big one, roll into town today. And I couldn't help but think about how amazing it would be to be part of it. I had to fight the _urge_ not to ask for a place then and there. The lights, the animals, the music... it was all so magical, _so attractive_."

Neah wasn't sure he liked where this was going.

"You want us to run away and join the _circus_? You do know how crazy this sounds, don't you Mana?"

There was a moment's silence in which the rain could be heard battering off of the slate roof tiles.

"I don't fit in here, Neah." He said desperately, almost pleadingly. "I don't like what you do, it sickens me. You kill these exorcists, these _humans_, like they're nothing."

He laughed once without humour.

"You act like you're swatting flies."

"And then you all change, so suddenly. Uncle Cyrus changes from a mad man to a pleasant duke, in the blink of an eye, and I know that Road is not so pleasant when she believes I'm out of ear shot."

He shook his head absently.

"Mother fakes a smile, but I can't. Don't change Neah. Fight for what you believe, not for what the Clan, what Uncle believes."

"You don't understand, Mana."

_How could he? _He was bound to the Clan; in a way that neither mother nor Mana would ever be able to comprehend.

Mana looked frustrated with his brother's blunt reply. "Mother and I, will you swat us too?"

He swallowed, caught off guard by this horrific question.

"That's different," he whispered, remembering something his mother had once said when discussing father, "You're family."

Mana looked at him, really looked at him.

His eyes burned into Neah's, alight with frustration and anger, though neither emotion was directed at him.

He got up off of his plush armchair in one graceful movement and strode over to Neah purposefully. He extended his arms and hugged him tightly; as though he was scared that his brother would disappear suddenly or turn to sand and crumble through his helpless fingertips.

Neah was taken aback by his brother's sudden show of affection and stayed rigid beneath him, his hands still clutching onto his book.

"You're not Uncle, Neah." He said into his shoulder. "You're better than him, far better."

* * *

"Neah!"

"Coming, Earl."

Neah sauntered leisurely down the garden path towards the far end of the meadow, where Cyrus stood, beckoning him forward.

"It's been a long time since you last entered the Ark," he said as his nephew approached. "Are you looking forward to it, young Neah?"

The Earls face was stretched into a broad, handsome smile and his hair had been stuffed neatly under his tall top hat.

He looked at Neah with pride, excited to bring the young Noah back into the world which he himself had created so many decades ago.

"It'll feel good to be home." He said, returning the smile half heartedly.

In truth, he felt nervous. Not because he would soon be reunited with the rest of his family, but because he would be leaving the ones which he held the most dear.

He would be back as often as he could, as he'd told Mana, but he doubted if mere visits would be enough to rid him of this homesickness.

The Earl nodded, pleased with his answer.

Then, something behind Neah abruptly caught his eye and he began waving frantically.

"It would seem you have a leaving party." Said Cyrus, gesturing to the focus of his waving.

Neah turned, confused, and was greeted by the sight of Mana and mother on the door step, both waving towards the pair of them.

Neah waved back.

Saying goodbye had been hard enough and prolonging it like this was just making it harder.

"How about you summon the Ark? It's always preferred you to me." chuckled the Earl, reverting his attention away from the waving pair.

"Sure." said Neah, dropping his hand and turning away.

He cleared his throat and sung into the dawn. Calling for the Ark which, deep down, he hoped would not come.

"_So the young boy fell into a deep sleep..."_

* * *

The Ark was just how it had always been, white washed buildings stacked upon one another in the Mediterranean style, cobbled streets, complete silence.

It had been him who'd designed it in this fashion, but he'd long since forgotten why. He guessed it must have meant something to him at the time. It didn't now.

"Earl?" he called into the silence, unsure where his travelling companion had got to. He'd defiantly stepped through the ark door...

He knew the streets like the back of his hand and passed through an endless blur of white before finally coming to his target location: The Tower.

He vaguely wondered if Mana would like it, all the white, but thought better of it. Mana was not wanted here, nor would he want to be here.

He entered through the large, white door, into the dining room.

All chatter stopped.

The room was long and impressive, vast glassless windows supplied it with significant amounts of light and a tremendous view of the gleaming city below. The polished white walls and elegantly tiled floors screamed luxury as well as providing the room with a pleasantly open feel. In here, the Noah did not have to hide.

Said people all currently sat around the large, sparkling table which stood directly in the vast rooms centre. Chairs were littered around its edges, some taken and others empty.

The Earl sat at the head.

So, he'd ran on ahead to make sure he was here before Neah.

Neah's chair, he remembered, was the one directly opposite.

The Earl looked up from his conversation, curious about the sudden silence. He searched each of the hushed faces in turn before his eyes finally came to rest upon the tall, handsome and slightly embarrassed Neah.

"Neah has arrived!" he announced, enthusiastically.

"Sit down, sit down." Chanted the Earl, "Let me introduce you!"

"I already know everyone." Said Neah, defiantly embarrassed now.

He was still in his human form, so to anyone outside of this room, bar Akuma, he would have appeared to be most certainly human.

But he could feel them; and he knew they could feel him.

He could feel their inner Noah's pulsate within; he could feel a deep, eternal connection between himself and each unfamiliar face which he gazed upon. He could feel their acceptance of him and how they actually _welcomed_ his intrusion into this private place. They knew he was one of them. They knew he was their brother.

The Earl grabbed him with one silkily gloved hand and hurried him into his chair before quickly trotting back to his own place at the opposite end of the room.

"But we have some new additions." said the Earl, explaining the unfamiliarity between Neah and some of the others.

The Earl looked different than he had at his home; Neah corrected himself, at _Mana's_ home. Here, in his own domain, he looked slightly...wild. He wasn't as well kept as he had been previously and his manner was certainly less controlled.

_Had the Earl always been like this?_

Five others sat around the table, excluding himself and Adam.

"This," he said with pride, indicating to Neah and addressing the room, "Is Neah Campbell, 14th Noah and talented Musician."

The others stared, eyeing him up, scrutinizing his every move.

"Destruction, eh?" asked a small boy who sat close to the Earl. He stared closely at Neah, though not unkindly.

Neah didn't recognise the child. Did the Earl only bring his favourite Noah clansmen to his family home?

"The Earl _always_ has a soft spot for destruction." He grumbled, like an infant.

"Oh now, Gent, don't embarrass me!" chuckled the Earl.

Neah swallowed loudly; confused by the comical edge his welcome had taken.

He remembered these people; he'd lived with them time and time again, for decades, for centuries. But each time he was reborn, he was different. He was more than just the collective 14th, this time, he was Neah Campbell.

Maybe in a previous life he'd understood the erratic behaviour of his family, but right now, it seemed slightly insane. Maybe living with humans for so long had given him unreasonable expectations.

Maybe even the Earl was grounded by humans.

"He thinks we're mad." announced a Noah situation to his right. He recognised him as Xerxes, Noah of Wisdom, cursed with the power to read minds. Yet another Noah he had not met. However, Road had mentioned him once, briefly in passing.

"We all thought as much when we first arrived." stated Road, eying Xerxes with obvious dislike.

Her familiar face was oddly comforting.

"It's good to see you, Neah." welcomed the Noah of Pity. He was a small man, slender and kindly looking; they'd met before. His name was Zane.

"And you, Zane." He said, warmly.

"Where's Mana?" chirped Road from the back.

"Oh Road..." sighed the Earl, putting his head in his hands.

"Mana?" asked a female Noah.

"The brother." Answered Xerxes.

"Do keep up, Bell." Said Zane.

Neah laughed awkwardly.

"I asked him to come." Confessed Neah, the Earl shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "But he said he'd feel out of place, so he stayed at home. He'll visit from time to time I'm sure." He smiled, hiding the hurt he felt.

Mana's refusal had affected him more than he'd cared to admit.

Road frowned.

"Oh to be human..." mused the Earl whilst staring thoughtfully into space.

* * *

With Neah gone the house took on a bare quality, as though it was far too vast and unfilled to be considered a comfortable home anymore.

And Mana, for the first time in his life, felt the powerlessness that came with being a human. A feeling that neither Neah, nor Uncle would ever experience.

Neah had offered him a hand and asked him warmly to, "Just come with me, Mana!" But the expression on Uncles face, the expression of wariness, of disappointment that had accompanied the offer had caused him to politely refuse.

Mana knew that he played an insignificant part in Uncles great plans and that Neah, rightly so, was the apple of his eye.

Neah was his _brother_, Mana was his nephew.

Mana missed the days when Neah had thought the man was just as crazy as he did, but over the years his understanding of him had grown, until, he supposed, Neah had become equally as peculiar.

Mana knew he was Neah's top priority, with mother second. But he could see Uncle jumping ranks quickly, catching up to the two human Campbell's at a worrying pace.

The world inside the Ark was something he would never be a part of, would never understand. He didn't want to be a hanger on, clinging to the life that was Neah's and not living his own. And his life was not in the Ark.

He guessed he'd end up like Mother, the middle ground between the world of the Noah and that of people and normality.

It didn't seem like the most comfortable position, but he didn't see an abundance of options for one such as himself.

He just hoped, desperately, that Neah would see sense one day and return home. Mana's offer to run away would continue to stand, for as long as was necessary.

He sat down on his favourite chair and pondered what he would do next.

He had the world at his fingertips.

* * *

"I'm leaving now, Mother!" called Mana, pulling on his long trench coat and tying up his unruly hair with a tidy ribbon. "I'll be back later this afternoon."

Mother came hurrying out of the kitchen to bid her son farewell and to wish him luck.

"Good luck, Mana." She beamed, straightening out his collar. "Just be yourself, getting nervous will get you nowhere."

"I know, I know." He said, bored of his Mothers constant bombardment of advice yet fond of the attention she was giving him.

"Next time I see you you'll be looking at a working man." She laughed, staring up at him with pride. It seemed like only yesterday she'd been scolding three foot tall Mana for the never ending trouble he caused. How she wished things could be as simple as they had been back then.

He opened the door with a harsh creak and light poured into the hallway through the narrow gap, illuminating them both with its autumnal glow.

"Don't get your hopes up _too_ much, Mother." He said, flashing her a farewell smile as he made his way down the steps and to the garden path.

"They couldn't get much higher!" she called back from the doorway.

* * *

"Neah, why do you look so glum?"

"Glum?" asked Neah in return, "I don't know." He said, not lifting his eyes from the novel that he was engrossed in.

He heard a huff of annoyance at his unimaginative answer before a skinny little hand darted forward and yanked the leather bound book harshly from his grip.

Road giggled at the bewildered expression which plastered his face before she loosened her hold and the book fell to the icy floor, its delicate pages crumbling beneath its bindings weight.

"Woops." Chuckled Road, pleased to have finally gained the boys attention.

"That wasn't funny, Road." He said, in a sing-song voice.

The table shook slightly, forced to by the dangerous sound waves being emitted by the most musical Noah.

Road flinched.

He stood up, his expression unreadable, and picked up the hefty novel, immediately straightening the pages with slight fingers.

"You're so funny, Neah." She said, recollecting herself and her childish facade.

"I'm glad you think so." He said, coolly. The singing tone had subsided with his anger.

"What is that book?" she asked, examining the cover with her bright eyes.

"It's a human story. Mana bought me it, for my tenth Birthday." He said, smiling warmly at the ghost of his childhood.

The smile was not directed at her, and she was well aware, but when Neah was happy her mood automatically improved. The Noah had a domino effect on one another, if one was sad or distressed; the others would feel it and the same vice versa.

"So that's why you're moody? You miss Mana?" Her tone was one of boredom and resignation. For a Musician he did love to play the same tune, again and again, until it was carved into each one of their uncompassionate skulls.

He turned and began to make his way back to his chair.

"Yes, it would seem so."


End file.
